


The Living Blues

by pqq



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Artist Steve Rogers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Social Anxiety, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pqq/pseuds/pqq
Summary: Bucky has everything he spent so many years working for: the perfect job, best friends, and the distance from his past he’d been chasing since he was 17. He’s happy, or at least he should be. He doesn’t need an asshole like Steve Rogers making him feel like shit and reminding him that something’s missing from his life.Steve’s life feels like it’s spiraling out of control. First he lost his boyfriend, then his job. Now he’s left picking up the pieces of all the things he thought he wanted, and he doesn’t need a distraction like Bucky Barnes. In a way, their feud should make things easier, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.Neither of them ever meant for this to happen, but fighting has always been easier than backing down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! I'm pretty psyched to actually be writing my very first multi-chaptered...anything. I've been thinking about this AU for months, and it actually happened! I wrote a thing!  
> The title of this piece comes from the song "Die Young" by Sylvan Esso

“ -- and Steve will be there too.” Natasha's leaning against his towel rack, watching him shave like she’s going to give out scorecards for accuracy. The ceiling fan in Bucky’s living room is on full blast, loud enough to hear from the bathroom. The summer sky is still swallowed by that brutal heat that only accompanies late summer days, and even though the sun is beginning to set between the blinds, Bucky can feel the stripes of light running hot along his shoulder. “You missed a bit under your chin.”

“Really? This party’s going to be so big you’re inviting Sam’s roommate?” He looks up from scrubbing his face clean of foam to catch her eye. “You’re only turning 26; that’s not even a major milestone.”

“There’s still some shaving cream in your ear. Also, you only turn 26 once. If my boyfriend wants to throw me a big party, I’ll let him.” He scrubs at his ear and receives a satisfied hum for his trouble. “I can invite whoever I want. Besides, I like Steve.” 

“You don’t  _ know _ Steve. The only reason  _ I _ know his name is because he walked in on you and Sam once.” She narrows her eyes at the reminder of the one embarrassing story Bucky has on her. To this day, it’s still the one and only time in two years of friendship Bucky has seen her flustered. He decides to be a nice to her and let it go (it is her birthday, after all), and stands to face her, spreading his arms out for assessment. “Am I fit to be seen in polite company?” Her eyes glimmer, but she fights a smile back between her teeth. 

“Just barely. It’s less to do with your shaving skills and more because of the way your face looks, though.” He grumbles a bit, something about having a horrible witch for a friend, before going to grab his keys.

The apartment is only just starting to buzz with people and music by the time the two of them show up. Sam greets them at the door with a toothy grin for Bucky and a sappy look for Nat, loudly proclaiming her arrival to the small group of guests. Bucky quite likes Sam; he’s funny and kind and treats Natasha well, but he also goes out of his way to be a friend to Bucky, which he appreciates just as much. 

“So glad you could make it, man! You’ve met my friend Claire, right?” 

The banter is easy and light from there, Sam breaking away to answer the door for the next pod of guests. By the time Bucky excuses himself to go grab beers for the two of them, the party has swelled into action. He recognizes his friends studded among the crowd of strangers: Clint is sitting on the floor, shoveling pizza slices into his mouth, to the blatant awe and disgust of the woman sitting next to him. Luke from the gym is standing by the window checking his phone, and Darcy is sitting in the lap of a man desperately trying to keep his hands to himself. He’s wading back through the masses of sweaty, tipsy twenty-somethings, carrying two open beers close to his chest when he bumps straight into someone, sending them both stumbling and covered in lukewarm beer. 

*

If Steve was a little less pissed off, less jittery from the noise and chatter of the party, less soaked in Sam’s gross Whole Foods beer, he might’ve been able to appreciate just how ridiculously handsome the man who just walked into him is, but Steve feels a burst of anger ignite in his chest as the taller man frantically attempts to apologize. 

“Shit man, you okay?” The guy tries to juggle both of the open, and now half-empty bottles with one hand and extends another, dripping with beer, to steady Steve. His shirt, unlike Steve’s, has escaped unscathed from the surprise shower of shitty alcohol. “Sorry, I totally didn’t see you there.” Steve dimly recognizes that the taller man is attempting to be nice to the fuming man standing in front of him, but his anger and the anxiety that had been marinating in his mind since Nat had invited him to this stupidly loud party are mixing into some new cocktail of irritability and embarrassment. He had  _ promised _ Sam that he would stay the for the whole party, try to get to know Nat and her friends, but all he wants to do is just skip the party and go drink alone in his room. At least then he wouldn’t be fucking up such a normal human interaction like apologizing. He feels another wave of shame and frustration overtake him.

‘Just watch where you’re fucking going,” he grinds out, slipping past the taller man and towards the kitchen, just barely catching the angry twist of surprise on the man’s stupidly-handsome features. 

He leans his forehead against the cool metal of the fridge, dodging the the crumpled grocery list, and just takes a minute to breathe. His heartbeat feels like it’s trying to punch holes clean through his throat. He reads the grocery list over and over again like a prayer:  _ OJ, spinach (not the frozen kind), sink cleaner stuff, BEER!  _ The repetition is slowly calming his rattled brain, so he keeps reading until the words lose their meaning and his heart feels like it’s back in his chest, where it belongs. 

God, Steve’s never been much of a partier, but he at least used to be able to stand them. Now he can barely keep it together long enough to interact with a stranger without trying to start a fight. God, he’s such a fucking shithead for taking it out on that guy.  _ He didn’t do anything wrong _ , he thinks,  _ I should go apologize.  _ He considers the possibility for a moment before quickly discarding it. The only thing worse than spilling some hot guy’s beer and then snapping at him for it would be seeking the guy out to apologize when he probably hates him already. Steve should just go change shirts. He’ll just change his shirt, say happy birthday to Nat, and try to sneak off to his room without making Sam worry about him. He takes one last calming breath before he turns to head out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room. 

*

The kitchen is quieter and less populated than the party by far, but just as cluttered with abandoned plastic cups and empty beer bottles. Bucky is surprised to see Beer Guy from earlier leaving the kitchen, but Sam and Nat clearly aren’t. 

“You actually came.” Nat steps in to hug him. “Sam and I were looking for you. Nice hair, by the way.” The blond guy is clearly flustered by Bucky’s presence, but he recovers quickly and laughs. 

“Thanks, Peggy didn’t give me much choice in the matter.” he jokes, running his hand through the front.  _ Nope, I totally didn’t imagine how deep his voice was,  _ Bucky thinks, transfixed by the pale stain of beer across the man’s shirtfront. “I think I look like the son of some rich guy with a yacht, personally, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Nat only cackles in response.  _ Who the hell is this guy, and how is he making Nat laugh like that?  _

“But you make such a nice trustfund baby!” teases Sam, clapping the smaller man on the back. 

‘Hey, fuck you Wilson! Everyone already knows you're my friend for the money, no need to rub it in.” The blonde man laughs, punching Sam in the shoulder with one bony fist. Sam doesn’t even flinch. 

“Steve Rogers: Certified Old Man, actually at a party. Drinking on a Sunday.” Natasha marvels. Sam laugh like Nat’s a real comedian. 

_ Fuck _ . Beer Guy is Sam’s roommate. Beer guy is walked-in-on-Sam-and-Nat _ - _ Steve.  _ Shit shit shit shit,  _ Bucky’s brain supplies helpfully. What is he supposed to do in this situation? Does Steve want  _ him _ to apologize? 

“Oh, this is my roommate James.”  Nat’s looking at them expectantly with a little smirk. “He works with me at the school, shaping young minds, and all that.” Steve looks at him like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and it pisses Bucky off. It’s not fair for this guy to hold some grudge about what happened earlier, especially when they should be getting along for Nat and Sam’s sakes. Even knowing that, his voice comes out cold as ice. 

“We’ve met.”


End file.
